


Child Proof

by joonfired



Series: The Adventures of a Single Dad in Space [5]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Adopted Children, Family Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, ManDadlorian, Mischievous Baby Yoda, Other, Parent-Child Relationship, Protective Mandalorian, Space Dad Mandalorian, single dad, the Mando didn't sign up for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:54:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21536293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joonfired/pseuds/joonfired
Summary: just some fluff where the title pretty much explains it all
Relationships: The Mandalorian & Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV)
Series: The Adventures of a Single Dad in Space [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1549036
Comments: 49
Kudos: 840





	Child Proof

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the "don't touch that" moment in the beginning of ep4

Autopilot was a lifesaver.

The Mandalorian didn’t know how he would have managed without it, as he was otherwise occupied in making sure his child didn’t destroy the ship with its curiosity. The phrases “don’t touch that” and “stop that” seemed to run on a loop from his mouth with every new stutter and sound from the child exploring the ship.

He’d tried carrying it all the time, but after a few hours that was a struggle as well. Since it kept wriggling and sliding out of his arms, toddling off with arms outstretched towards such things as the hyperdrive lever or fuel lines.

As a bounty hunter, the Mandalorian had always assumed there would be one target, one day, that would be his match. But no, it seemed that was not his fate.

Parenting would be the death of him.

“Come here,” he finally said, catching the scampering little child for the millionth time that day.

It fussed quietly and squirmed in his grasp, straining for the floor. He knew it wasn’t hungry since it had devoured every piece of food he’d offered it. And it clearly wasn’t tired, since waking up after he’d rescued it from the Client, it hadn’t . . . stopped . . . moving!

“Come here,” he said again, tucking it into his arm in a now-practiced move.

It stared up at him with a small pout of annoyance. He chuckled quietly at the expression, a fond look settling over his face, and not for the first time.

“I know there’s lots of interesting things you want to touch,” he said, bouncing it gently. It was an instinctive move, and he pondered why that was so . . . but didn’t stop. “But if you touch the wrong one, we could explode — _ bam! _ ” 

The child startled at his loud exclamation, its large eyes widening even further. And then it giggled, which made him laugh softly, too.

-=-=-=-

The Mandalorian eventually drifted off in the pilot chair, the child cradled in one gloved hand and tucked against his chest. But when he woke up an unknown time later, it was to the ship lurching awkwardly to the side.

The engines whined and stuttered, alarms blaring from the control panels. The child scuttled towards him with a concerned whimper, clambering up his leg and curling into his side. It’s behaviour was . . . guilty.

“What did you do this ti . . . oh,  _ hell _ ,” the Mandalorian said, jolting into action.

Somehow the small child had managed to lower shields, propel them into hyperspace, but overridden the safety stop in case of a planet course-collision.

“When you’re older,” the Mandalorian muttered as he quickly got them out the emergency situation, “I’m never going to let you forget this.”

-=-=-=-

“You sure got a nice . . . ship,” said the native Sargon as he stepped on board.

“Thanks,” the Mandalorian said.

He knew the two men were eyeing the taped over console panel hatches, latched covers, and levers tied into position with string. The whole thing made flying a bit more tedious, but at least the Mandalorian didn’t have to worry about death if he momentarily lost sight of the child.

In the midst of it all, the child was buckled into a seat, playing contendly with its favorite ball-top of a lever. It cooed in greeting and curiosity at the strangers, who made sudden noises of understanding as they put together the child-proofed ship and the child itself.

“The boxes are over there,” prompted the Mandalorian with a gesture at the supplies he meant to take wherever these men lived.

“Oh, yes, yes, sorry,” they said, and moved into action . . . though not without many continued side-glances at the child.

“All right, you little womp rat,” the Mandalorian said, unbuckling the child and settling it into a sling across his chest. “Time for a change of scenery.”


End file.
